Lust For Blood: Pretty When You Cry 2
by Prosthetic.Wonderland
Summary: Before I had time to ask questions, gunshots blast through the air with frightening speed. The only light source, in the darkness of the alleyway, was the explosive flashes that exited from the barrel of the guns.


LUST FOR BLOOD

PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY

_A desire unforefilled, leads to an obsession that feeds from the buried darkness adhering to the conscious psyche. Thoughts and feelings are tempted by a lustful fantasy that pleasures the mind with its sinister ways, and are attracted by provoking modality. One small, harmless, intake of a forbidden fixation, can lead to a dangerous turnabout. Cravings grow to starvation, leading a person into a dark, perilous corruption, struck by an insidious and possessive yearning. Pain and sufferance swims through the mind, body, and soul, as the chronic infectious disease disrupts the sanity of intellectual abilities. There is no place, though, for mild desires that do not threaten the sanity of a being, such as food, sex, or harmless impoverish deprivations, but obsessions that possess the power to strip the entire essence of humanity from a person, and inflict atrocious levels of pain that drive them into questioning their cursed existence. _

* * *

Accompanying the vacant streets, were distorted shadows of tall buildings that loomed over me in such an engulfing fashion, that I didn't know whether, in the dark, they were still, or giant beasts lurking in the shadows. Even as lanky light posts dimmed in the dark, the blackness of the night blinded my eyes. For this reason, sounds were more prominent and eerie, as were the insignificant movements of small domestic animals running the streets, and the odd drunken man swaying his way home.

Though my plan of fleeing, undetected, the confinements of the orphanage ran clean and successful, I abruptly forgot my future actions post the escape. Where would I stay? Surely, the night was young, and it would be a handful of hours before daylight broke through the horizon and warmed the earth and lit the sky.

"I never realised how cold the night felt." I whispered quietly, sadly. Never having permission to leave the prison I called, in the most liberal and passive way, home, has left me unworldly and unknowing about simple things, such as feeling coldness against my skin, the sun on my face, or the sensation of grass between my toes.

With a shift of my shoulder, I positioned the strap of my backpack comfortably in place, while moving on down the street. The scrapping of my weathered shoes echoed loudly and bounced between the walls of structures on either side of me. I observed my surroundings, which, evidently, were foreign to my knowledge. Basically, I was wandering aimlessly, like a drifting spirit, among the emptiness of the streets, having no where to go, and no one to go to.

Other than the noise coming from the bottom of my shoes, a painful screech burst through the silence of the night. I paid no attention to the source of the noise, at first, but kept walking slowly down the sidewalk. Yet, as the sound of a car engine roared furiously behind me, inclining in sound, speed and declining in distance, an alarm bell rang suddenly, in the back of my mind.

Hesitantly, I took the chance of stopping in place and checking behind my shoulder. A pair of lights, brighter than flashlights, lit up the street, and temporarily blinded me. I would have screamed in utter terror, if someone, or something, hadn't plummeted into me and painfully knocked every amount of air from my lungs.

I felt firm hands grip agonisingly at my shoulders and pull me into a back alley. All was dark between two monstrous buildings, and for my recuperating eyesight, but I could hear voices. Hear; of course, would mean, in better sense, drowned voices amongst the screeching of cars back on the street. I felt disoriented and confused as to what was happening around me.

"If they find us, we're screwed." Someone, preferably a woman, hissed quietly to the other presence that was currently holding me securely against a wall. I wiggled my body left and right, but my attempt of breaking free of the iron grip was unsuccessful and useless.

"We'll have to stall them until Michael arrives." Bellowed the man at my front side. He grunted when he squeezed my shoulders to prevent me from continuing with my distressed behaviour.

"We can't let them have her." The woman informed him.

My eyesight was returning, and I could finally make out the figures standing before me.

The man was abnormally tall, and had, wrapped tightly around his body, defined muscles that practically burst through his black muscle shirt and matching cargo pants. His hair was an odd fiery red shade, while his eyes contradicted the colour with a deep green. Tattoos enveloped his arms, and even his hands, symbolizing from pictures, to odd signs that reminded me of foreign languages. Smaller details, including his face, were harder to perceive in the dark.

The woman to my right stood in a proper manner, with her hands behind the contour of her back, and her feet kept together. The golden hair on her head was tightly wound in a bun. The woman's eyes were dark brown, and larger than any pair of eyes I've ever seen. The most unusual characteristic about her was the difference in height between the man and herself. She was, obviously, relatively short, and close to my body length.

Before I had time to ask questions, gunshots blast through the air with lightening speed. The only light source, in the darkness of the alleyway, was the explosive flashes that exited from the barrel of the guns. With no other options, I crouched to the ground and hid my head between my knees. Maybe, if I was lucky, no one would hit me at this level. Unless, I was the target, first and foremost. But, then again, I couldn't think of an explanation as to why I would be a target of such a violent battle.

"Stop!" I repeatedly screamed as loud as possible. Surprisingly, everyone heard my frightful crying, and ceased fire. I never expected anyone, with a gun in possession, to listen to a small, frail girl such as myself, but now that they have, I had the chance for cooperation. Of course, money was out of the option, since I didn't have any wealth to spare, in the first place. I feared that, maybe, I would have to, if my predictions were correct, satisfy the strangers with other means.

"Get up." Growled an unfamiliar voice, and forced me onto my feet with a sharp tug at my arm. I trembled noticeably as I was dragged out from the alley and back into the openness of the street. The ground looked particularly interesting at this point, as I was too afraid to look up and witness the devastation surrounding me. An engine roared loudly in the night, followed by the slamming of doors.

Footsteps shifted on the pavement. My arm was released from whoever's grip, and I was left standing in place, exposed, and too terrified to try my luck at running away. I wasn't sure if it was out of fear, that I wasn't crying, or quite simply, I was dead, and imagining everything from this point.

"It displeasures me that you haven't started crying." A smooth voice sounded uncomfortably close, and sunk into my skin like poison.

A handful of chuckles assembled from the persons comment, informing me that there was a group of menacing people surrounding me from all sides.

I looked through the curtain of hair shielding my face, as I continued to bow my head with intimidation. There was someone standing just in front of me, with barely a metre of separation. Who were these people? What did they want with me?


End file.
